Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Slovenia and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1966 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing Shoche to the funk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by Agent Orange. All the underground hits.
All Fat Boys tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kings Of Tomorrow record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Parry Music record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Crispy Ambulance,
Harry Pussy,
Graham Central Station,
Don Cherry,
Lakeside,
The Monochrome Set,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Kas Product,
EPMD,
Hashim,
La Düsseldorf,
Dennis Brown,
Spoonie Gee,
Joe Smooth,
Jimmy McGriff,
June of 44,
Pere Ubu,
Lee Hazlewood,
Shoche,
Pulsallama,
Janne Schatter,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Oblivians,
Gregory Isaacs,
Harmonia,
Gastr Del Sol,
The Victims,
Mo-Dettes,
Motorama,
Ten City,
Groovy Waters,
Warren Ellis,
Nirvana,
Moby Grape,
X-101,
Rotary Connection,
Ronnie Foster,
Yaz,
Blake Baxter,
Whodini,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Seeds,
Todd Rundgren,
The Dirtbombs,
Fear,
Dark Day,
Curtis Mayfield,
Kurtis Blow,
Roxette,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
China Crisis,
Talk Talk,
Kaleidoscope,
Danielle Patucci,
The Misunderstood,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
The Red Krayola,
Michelle Simonal,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Monks,
Faraquet,
Traffic Nightmare, Traffic Nightmare, Traffic Nightmare, Traffic Nightmare.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.